Silence reigned within the ancient castle.
Only Ian's footsteps echoed softly through the stone corridors. The wall lamps, scattered throughout the castle, cast flickering shadows that illuminated the fine dust motes dancing in the air.
Ian stood before the oak door to Professor Morgan's bedroom.
He brushed his fingertips over the intricate rune carvings on the door.
As he touched them, the ancient symbols briefly glowed with a faint blue light before returning to normal. A yellowed piece of parchment stood out clearly in the dim light, stuck to the door.
Ian tore the parchment down.
He looked at it.
Professor Morgan's sharp, forceful handwriting leapt into view.
"Went out on urgent business. Don't wait. If something comes up, handle it yourself. Remember, don't enter my bedroom. It's dangerous inside."
It was concise, direct, and utterly devoid of any sentiment... classic bad witch style.
Below the note, she had drawn a small warning symbol, clearly because she was worried he might ignore that last reminder. The familiar tone made Ian feel as if he could see his teacher frowning as she wrote it.
"Am I the kind of person who would barge into someone else's bedroom? Absolutely not!" Ian declared to himself, answering his own question. After a quick inspection, he discovered the bedroom was protected by elaborate defensive spells.
Given Professor Morgan's personality, she was definitely not a shy maiden who was modest about her bedroom. Perhaps there was something dangerous inside. Ian carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket before dropping to the floor.
He certainly wouldn't enter someone else's room without permission, but that didn't mean he wouldn't peek through the crack under the door, it wasn't exactly trespassing, after all. The wide gap seemed deliberately designed like a peephole.
Mentally justifying his actions, Ian peered through the crack. Medieval castle doors were all built this way, with gaps wide enough to slip a hand through.
There was no concern for airtight craftsmanship at all, which meant Ian could clearly see the interior. Just as he'd suspected, Professor Morgan wasn't a shy, demure woman with bedroom shame. She had indeed, probably, perhaps, stashed something dangerous inside.
And there it was.
Through the crack in the door, Ian could faintly see a row of crystal vials on the desk, each glowing with a dangerous, flickering light. One of them was continuously shifting through eerie, otherworldly colors.
Since he couldn't observe them up close, Ian couldn't tell what the vials contained. They might be some kind of legendary-grade treasure or alchemical products made by Professor Morgan herself.
After all, as a Legendary dark witch, Professor Morgan was a true polymath in magic. It was she who had first introduced Ian to alchemy, and even now, he couldn't be certain his alchemical skills surpassed hers.
"Did she go out to gather more alchemy materials? Is she forging some kind of Alchemical Artifact in the Twilight Zone?" Ian could only speculate about Professor Morgan's sudden departure.
After all...
Professor Morgan had left far too hastily. The last time he entered the Twilight Zone, there had been no warning signs whatsoever, and she still hadn't informed Ariana back in town.
Which meant that something must have come up suddenly for her to rush out like that. Actually, it wasn't unusual for wizards in the Twilight Zone to forge things.
After all, it was just a limitation of knowledge.
If King Arthur, aka Pandero, could brew wine there, then the wizard Morgan could naturally apply her alchemical knowledge there as well.
Alchemy formed the very foundation of the world, a manifestation of the Creator's supreme power. Even within these peculiar spatial dimensions, only alchemy remained unaffected.
Ian was quite used to such things now, having already seen Raven and the Death God practicing alchemy in the Twilight Zone before.
"Perhaps Professor Morgan, as a witch, is also brewing magic wine," Ian mused, observing the bubbling liquids in the crystal vials. Out of caution and respect for his teacher, he merely licked his lips.
He wouldn't violate her personal space by sneaking into her bedroom to take a sip.
Ian rose from the floor with a shake of his head. It seemed he would have to rely on himself to resolve the sudden crisis involving ancient affairs.
The timing couldn't have been worse.
But perhaps even Professor Morgan wouldn't be able to give him useful advice. After all, the bronze gate that had brought Ian to the ancient era was clearly from an extremely remote age.
There were no records of it in any wizarding books, not even in the fragmented stories.
This meant that it was far more secretive than the Three Hallows.
After lingering outside his teacher's bedroom door for a bit, Ian went back to the main hall, walked out of the castle, and headed toward the front steps where the Ancient Dragon often lay sunbathing.
Pushing open the heavy oak door, sunlight streamed across Ian's face as he squinted his way to the steps. Sure enough, the ancient dragon lay sprawled on the ground, its thick scales gleaming and tail curled in a coil, dozing lightly.
"Senior, are you absolutely sure you didn't see Professor Morgan leave?" Ian asked, standing before the door.
The ancient dragon slowly opened one eye and yawned. "What's wrong? Lost your teacher again?"
"Did you know where she went all along?" Ian asked, frowning.
The Ancient Dragon rolled over, flicking his tail, and replied with a hint of exasperation, "I had no idea. I didn't even see her leave just now. She probably used that annoying instant-teleportation spell again... poof, and she's gone."
"She's done this before, disappearing for a couple of days at a time." It was clear that even after being imprisoned here, Ancient Dragon still understood Professor Morgan's habits quite well.
"Two days?"
Ian sighed.
"But I can only stay in this realm for half a day at most. I won't be able to wait for her to come back."
Deep down, he still wanted to rely on his teacher a little, but now it was clear that wouldn't be possible.
The Ancient Dragon blinked. "Then what are you going to do?"
"Never mind. I'll just have to find the answers myself and see if I can figure out a way back to Hogwarts." Ian glanced down at the massive, clumsy clock looming nearby.
Its hands were ticking along with the flow of time in the real world.
"There's still a little time left," Ian muttered.
A sudden idea struck him. He didn't feel like just sitting here chatting with the Ancient Dragon.
"Professor Morgan only said that I couldn't go to her bedroom, so... I'll just wander around the castle."
Seeing that he had some time before he had to return, Ian began wandering through the castle out of sheer boredom.
After all, his teacher hadn't said he couldn't go anywhere else.
Even though Ian entered this world every seven days to learn magic from Professor Morgan, he still knew far too little about the ancient castle.
Hearing this, the Ancient Dragon immediately perked up. Its huge body wriggled over like an oversized puppy.
"Take me with you! Take me with you! I know what she's hiding in the secret compartment of her study!"
"Do you want to get me turned into a toad?" Ian retreated two steps.
"Besides, with your size, could you even fit inside the castle?" He had a point, the Ancient Dragon's colossal frame looked almost as large as the entire ancient castle.
Hearing this, the Ancient Dragon immediately deflated, slumping back to the ground with a crestfallen expression.
"Then, if you find something good, you have to share half with me." The Ancient Dragon declared.
Even after living in human society for so many years, the ancient dragon's instinct to hunt for and hoard treasure was still strong.
"If you take something from Professor Morgan, she'll definitely torture you mercilessly," Ian chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to push open the ancient castle's heavy door once more. With a creaking groan, a musty, dust-laden air rushed out, still mingled with the scents of potions, parchment, and an indefinable, ancient magic.
The great hall was where Ian usually stayed. Most of the other areas were still unknown to him.
So, in this ancient castle filled with mystery and magic, Ian began his "aimless strolling" adventure.
"The castle where I saw Professor Morgan's father living during my time-travel was similar, but the layout has changed in many places," Ian murmured to himself, his fingertips tracing the weathered stone walls.
He first ventured to the Trophy Room on the east side. Originally meant to display magical weapons, it had now been transformed into a bizarre "living exhibition hall."
The walls were hung with armors of wildly varying styles. Some looked like the heavy plate armor worn by Knights, while others resembled ceremonial artifacts imbued with magic. The most striking was a suit of obsidian-like armor in the corner, its surface carved with intricate runes that emanated a faint, chilling aura.
"Could this be a cursed armor left behind by a fallen knight?" Ian murmured while leaning in for a closer look. Suddenly, a blast of icy wind forced him to stumble back several steps.
Abruptly, the armor's eye sockets lit up red, as if it had gained consciousness.
"Kiss me~" the armor rasped.
Ian jumped back in shock, his face paling with terror. He spun around and fled, not stopping until he was certain no monster was pursuing him. Only then did he pause to catch his breath.
"What kind of messed-up fetish is this? This place is definitely not safe to wander around alone," he muttered, still shaken.
"That's right. This place is full of Miss Morgan's fairy-tale memories."
Just then, a suit of knight armor that had been dancing on its own abruptly froze when it saw Ian. With a mechanical clack-clack, its helmet rotated a full 180 degrees, its empty eye sockets "staring" at him.
"Good evening, sir." The suit of armor said, bowing politely. Suddenly, its waist joint jammed, and its upper body crashed to the ground with a clang. It was likely an early, failed prototype.
It had later been dumped here.
Ian held back his laughter and helped reassemble it. But the moment he let go, the armor screamed and hopped away as if afraid Ian would charge it money.
"Merlin's beard! Your hands are colder than ice!"
That was obviously just a made-up excuse.
After saying that, the crafty armor scampered off and hid inside a storage cabinet.
"It's really gained sentience," Ian mused, still mulling over the armor's earlier comment about the fairytale traces everywhere.
So...
He decided to explore the garden behind the castle.
He knew there was a garden here
He knew because he had once traveled through time and visited the real-world prototype of the castle.
As expected, the garden behind the castle was encircled by thorny vines, accessible only through specific spells. Ian recited the original incantation, and the vines slowly parted, revealing a narrow path leading into a sea of flowers.
Unlike the garden Old Lady Morgan liked to tinker with, the plants in this Twilight Zone garden were utterly bizarre.
There were singing roses, rainbow-misting mushrooms, and stone statues curled up under trees like sleeping cats. The most magical of all was a gigantic apple tree.
When its fruit ripened, the apples would float into the air, waiting to be picked.
"It really does have a fairy tale feel," Ian muttered as he plucked an apple and took a bite. Instantly, he felt himself enveloped in a warm, radiant glow, and it felt as if he was basking in the spring sunshine.
"This apple... it tastes somewhat like a Golden Apple. Could it be a replica created by Professor Morgan? Pity it doesn't boost magic power," He muttered while continuing his leisurely stroll through the fantastical garden.
Strange plants were everywhere.
Many of them were unique to the Twilight Zone.
After stopping to admire a very rare cluster of red spider lilies, Ian wandered back to the castle at a leisurely pace.
He continued exploring, and as he rounded a corridor corner, he encountered a self-sweeping broom. As Ian passed, the broom suddenly went berserk, chasing him and smacking him repeatedly.
"Newcomer! No running or jumping in the corridors!" The broom shouted sharply, its voice sounding just like a strict old butler.
In response, Ian casually cast a Transfiguration spell, shrinking the broom to the size of a slug.
However... it still chased him.
There was nothing he could do.
He couldn't destroy Professor Morgan's things.
"What a terrible temper."
Ian ducked and weaved through the corridors, finally shaking off the pursuit by crashing into a room filled with mirrors. Every mirror in the room could speak, and they were all chatterboxes.
"Oh, my! Isn't that Ian?"
"Miss Morgan's apprentice!"
"His hair is even messier than last time!"
"I bet he didn't bother combing it properly again!"
As Ian covered his ears and ran out, he could still hear the mirrors shouting in chorus behind him:
"Remember to use conditioner!"
"What the heck? Professor Morgan loves mirrors so much?" Ian arrived at Mirror Hall No. 2, as labeled on the door. It was another room lined with mirrors on all four walls.
But these mirrors didn't talk.
Instead, each reflected a different scene: some showed the past, some showed fragments of the future, and some displayed pure fantasy.
Ian stood before one mirror and saw himself beneath a starry sky, holding a glowing sword. A black-robed figure resembling You-Know-Who stood beside him.
He tried to step closer to his reflection, but the surface rippled like water.
"This is...a destiny observer?" He murmured.
The mirror gave no reply, leaving only endless reflections.
"It seems Professor Morgan has been trying to replicate the Magic Mirror," Ian mused as he left the room. He began exploring the higher floors.
The study on the third floor was surprisingly quiet.
Ian cautiously pushed open the door and found the bookshelves slowly rotating, the books floating in the air like birds under a Mobiliarbus spell, automatically returning to their places. Just as he reached for a copy of Advanced Curse Analysis, the book snapped shut, painfully pinching his fingers.
"Unauthorized access prohibited.," it said.
A line of tiny golden letters appeared on the spine. It seemed that all the books here were locked.
Ian's attempts to bypass the protections proved futile, so he had no choice but to leave.
Though he possessed violent means, but they felt too disrespectful.
The castle was full of unbelievably strange things. The weirdest place of all was the kitchen.
Ian had only wanted to find something to eat, but he found a kitchen knife engaged in a life-or-death struggle with a carrot on the cutting board.
A teapot stood nearby, cheering them on. When Ian entered, all the kitchenware froze instantly, pretending to be ordinary objects—if you ignored the knife still embedded in the carrot.
"My apologies. Carry on," Ian said tactfully, backing out of the room.
When he reached the observatory on the top floor, he finally discovered something truly fascinating. A massive brass astronomical instrument was operating autonomously, projecting a star chart a hundred times more detailed than those used in Hogwarts' astronomy class. Even more astonishing were the crystal orbs stacked in a corner, each sealing within it miniature storms, volcanoes, or even entire galaxies.
Just as Ian leaned in for a closer look, he heard a click behind him. He whirled around to see a mechanical owl emerging from a hidden compartment, its ruby eyes sparkling.
"Password," Owl said in a mechanical voice.
"Uh... Dragon Dung Cookies?" Ian blurted out, trying Professor Morgan's favorite snack.
"Incorrect. Remaining attempts: 2."
"Shadow Wing is most ticklish?"
"Incorrect. Last chance."
Ian took a deep breath and recited a phrase he'd seen in Professor Morgan's notes: "Knowledge knows no bounds, truth endures forever."
The hidden compartment slid open silently, revealing a thin black notebook inside. Just as Ian reached for it, the notebook automatically flew into his hands, flipping open to a specific page with a whoosh.
{To the nosy little brat who rummages through things: I knew you'd find this eventually. Remember to put it back exactly where you found it.— M}
The handwriting slowly faded away.
The black notebook began to transform into a book.
Fairy Tale Mysteries
A line of shimmering golden text appeared on the cover.
(End of Chapter)
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